Grant me an old man's frenzy, Myself must I remake Till I am Timon and Lear Or that William Blake Who beat upon the wall Till Truth obeyed his call.

What the world's million lips are searching for, must be substantial somewhere.

Come let us mock at the great That had such burdens on the mind And toiled so hard and late To leave some monument behind, Nor thought of the leveling wind.

I knew a phoenix in my youth, so let them have their day.

Words are always getting conventionalized to some secondary meaning. It is one of the works of poetry to take the truants in custody and bring them back to their right senses.

Much did I rage when young, Being by the world oppressed, But now with flattering tongue It speeds the parting guest.

I have drunk ale from the Country of the Young / And weep because I know all things now.